Death and Flowers
by SkyFire2
Summary: aka. A Ringwraith meets his match... in more ways than one! *g* Inspired by a Mary-Sueness test posted to a mailing-list I'm on. Scary thought, no? *g* Please R/R.


Death and Flowers  
by SkyFire  
  
Disclaimer: Recognized LotR characters are not mine. *sob* Plotbunnies are mine, though.  
  
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Gil for the inspiration for my plotbunnies! I was reading your list   
and they just kept biting! *g* This is made up of 9 of the items thereon. Don't worry, I listed   
them all at the end, for those who didn't get the list. Just don't peek, ok? *g*  
  
Feed the plotbunnies! Leave a review! *g*  
  
*****  
Death and Flowers  
by SkyFire  
  
If he'd ever once had a name, it had long ago been swallowed up by the endlessly passing mists of   
time. Now there was only the Master and the Master's will. He felt sorrow only when he failed   
his Master, which only rarely happened, and felt joy only when he could return successfully from   
fulfilling his Master's orders, then to await the next.  
  
He was known now only as the chief of his Master's Nazgul, leader of the Nine, and he wore upon   
his brow his ancient crown of old, and upon his hand he wore the Ring of Power he'd taken up   
countless years before.  
  
Now, by his Master's orders, he rode away north and west to find a land called 'Shire,' with the   
eight other Nazgul close beside him, to find 'Baggins' and retrieve his Master's long-lost One   
Ring.  
  
The Nine rode their black horses over grassy road and green fields, feeling nothing but the   
driving *need* to complete their set task and return to Minas Morgul to await the next time their   
orders sent them forth.  
  
At last, they reached the land called 'Shire' and split up, that way to cover more ground more   
quickly in their search for 'Baggins.'  
  
He rode in a somewhat westerly direction, moving toward what the passing signposts declared to be   
'Hobbiton.' He was passing along a lane in a wood when he heard a furtive rustle at one side of   
the road, then sudden silence. He pulled up his horse and dismounted. He sniffed the air,   
trying to determine what waited hidden in the underbrush there. He walked to the bushes, armor   
and mail clinking with a strangely dead sound with every step. He reached out an armored hand   
and parted the bushes.  
  
Then he reeled back with an unearthly wail as he clawed at his face and the two vicious, furry   
ferrets that had attached themselves to it by tooth and claw. He managed to pull the creatures   
off, crushing one in either hand, then dropped them carelessly to the ground.  
  
He was approaching his horse to continue with his mission when he heard an outraged shriek from   
above. He had not even time to look or draw his blade when he was hit hard from behind by the   
fisted talons of a great eagle, who then proceded to buffet him from all directions with talons   
and huge pumping wings. Somehow, he managed to stumble aff the road and into the trees where the   
eagle could not follow.  
  
He raised his head and called his horse with his undead voice, turning to look back at the road   
when he heard no answering neighing. He saw there with his muted sight a great cat, a tiger,   
the likes of which were usually only seen in the far south of Middle-Earth. His horse was   
galloping away from the animal and would not obey its master's call.  
  
He let loose another chilling wail, hoping to scare away the beast so that his horse would   
return.  
  
"You're one of the Nine Ringwraiths, aren't you?" came the smooth, fearless voice from behind   
him.  
  
He spun to face the newcomer, saw there a human girl clad in brown and green, cloaked as one of   
the Dunedain. She was, even to his diminished sight, amazingly beautiful, with long auburn hair   
bound in an elaborate braid. She seemed to glow in his sight, shining with the strength of her   
goodness.  
  
"You squashed my ferrets," she said sadly, her flawless face creasing in a pout of monumental   
proportions. Her eyes shimmered with tears and a single perfect crystal tear escaped, running   
down her face to drop to the forest floor from her chin. Where it hit, a shining flower sprang   
up, the like of which was never before seen on Middle-Earth and would never be again.  
  
The leader of the fearsome Nazgul found himself suddenly filled to overflowing with the emotion   
of remorse, then surprise as he recognized the feelings, as they weren't granted to him by the   
Master. He opened a mouth more accustomed to fearsome wails than speech, and spoke for the first   
time in years beyond count. "I... I am... sorry."  
  
He stepped aside as she passed by, watched as she knelt by the creatures he had crushed with his   
own hands. He saw her scoop up the creatures, then squeeze her eyes shut, squeezing out a single   
tear from each eye. A tear fell upon each ferret and as he watched, their crushed bodies   
expanded once again, then, with angry squeakings, they lived again.  
  
She looked over her shoulder at where he stood in the wood, his eagle-shredded cloak flapping   
slightly in a faint breeze. "Come. Walk with me to my home. I want to talk to you."  
  
  
  
The other eight Nazgul, leading his runaway horse, found him three days later.  
  
He knelt beside the girl in her flower garden. His black cloak and armor was gone; he was   
dressed simply in brightly colored shirt and pants, with an apron over it in front and a flower   
tucked behind one ear. Hands, forearms and knees wore dirt-smears as he helped the girl plant   
cheerful-colored pansies and marigolds. His Ring he wore on a chain about his neck.  
  
He looked up as the Eight approached, then stood. He pulled the chain from about his neck and   
gave it to the Nazgul that had been his second. "Take my Ring back to Sauron and begone," he   
said, voice still raspy but much improved after those three days with the girl. "Go, now. For   
our guests shall be arriving soon and you are not now ready to meet them. The Elf-lords have no   
love for the Nazgul. They almost killed me the first day before my beautiful beloved convinced   
them that I am completely reformed." He hugged the girl, and she smiled brilliantly up at him.  
  
The Eight turned and galloped away, fear greater than any they had ever known coursing through   
them.  
  
Their once-fearsome leader... free of his Ring... planting flowers... in love... alive once more.  
  
  
END  
  
Notes: Okay, these are the parts of Gil's Mary-Sueness list that I chose to write this using.  
#36. [Is your character] extremely beautiful?  
#40. Does your character have long hair?  
#41. Of an unusual colour?  
#88. Do animals that are usually untamed, such as Shadowfax, like and obey your character?  
#96. Does she also have a pair of ferrets, an eagle, and a Bengal tiger who follow her around   
defending her? (If the answer to question 95 is yes, please send me a copy of your story)   
#109. Is your character so good, beautiful and persuasive that s/he can persuade otherwise   
evil (or misguided) canon characters to change their ways?   
#143 d) Your character is a Ringwraith.   
#147. Is your character able to restore anyone to life by weeping over them?  
#189. Does a beautiful flower miraculous bloom at you character's gravesite? (OK, well it's   
not her *grave*, but there *is* a flower!)  
  
  
Like it? Yes? No? Let me know! Leave a review! 


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